Mortification of Saint Vincent

If it is glorious to follow Our Lord, we must own that nothing costs more to nature. Indeed, the first step to be taken by those who wish to follow Jesus Christ is to renounce themselves and carry their cross. The Saint found it a difficult matter, but he never left off practising it every moment of his life; and it has been said of him, with perfect truth, that, under the appearance of an ordinary and common existence, he constantly practised the strictest mortification, both interior and exterior. By interior mortification I mean that which has for its immediate object the judgment, the will, the inclinations of the heart; the sweetest inspirations of nature. By exterior mortification I mean that which crucifies all the senses.

The interior mortification of Saint Vincent is revealed in a sensible manner in the reformation of his character. One can fight against one's nature, but nearly always it reappears. If it seems to be subdued and in perfect control on occasions that one is able to foresee, it shows itself in its true light when taken unawares in unforeseen circumstances. There are very few men who, when studying their neighbour, do not end by discovering in him something they had not observed before.

Nature had given Saint Vincent an austere and forbidding countenance; however, he knew so well how to do violence to himself that all who knew him, always took him for a model of meekness and affability. He himself regarded this change as a sort of miracle, and attributed it to the charitable compassion of some persons who had advised him to assume a less gloomy and austere exterior. He fought against self-love with such constant vigour that, judging by his serenity and kindly appearance, one might have questioned if he belonged to the family of Adam at all. To hide nothing which might draw contempt upon himself, to hide carefully all that might cause him to be honoured, such was his rule. The King's secretary had been a slave in Algiers, and he knew Saint Vincent had been one in Tunis. He willingly recounted his adventures to the Saint, and keenly desired that he would tell him his own. Many a time he turned the conversation to this matter, but he owned in the evidence that he gave, that he had never obtained a single word. Many times also Saint Vincent had occasion to speak about these experiences at high society gatherings, but he always kept silence on the subject.

People thought they noticed in him a certain indifference towards his relations; this of course was only the result of strict and constant mortification. He said one day, when people were pressing him to do them some favour: "Do you think that I do not love my relations? I have all the feelings of affection and tenderness towards them which any other might have for his own, and this natural love urges me to assist them; but I must act according to the motions of Grace, and not those of nature, and I must think of those who are most in need first, without pausing to consider the bonds of friendship or relationship. I must imitate Our Lord, Who in a public meeting refused to recognize His Mother, or His cousins; and in the distribution of alms I must regard as my nearest relations, not those who are so in the flesh, but those who stand in greater need of help. But, then, are not my relations blessed enough? could they be in a better position? for they are carrying out the Divine Will, which condemns man to gain his bread in the sweat of his brow."

The Saint never deviated from these principles even when it was possible for him to do so. One of his friends (Du Fresne) gave him one day a thousand francs to assist his relations. The Man of God did not refuse them, but he remarked to his benefactor that his family could live as they had done hitherto; that this increase of riches would not make them more virtuous; "a good Mission given to the whole parish would be worth more in the eyes of God and of men." His friend yielded to his arguments, but the Saint was not able to carry out his project. The civil wars which broke out desolated Guyenne; Saint Vincent's relations were amongst the worst hit; they lost all their modest possessions, some of them even their lives. The holy man then recognized that it was by a special arrangement of Providence that he had not been able to give that Mission. He blessed God for such a special and visible protection, and dispatched in all haste the assistance prepared by Heaven for his family. This was the only time Saint Vincent ever helped materially his relations in order to rescue them out of utter destitution, even though he could have easily procured a comfortable living for every one of them.

Another proof of his perfect interior mortification is the evenness of mind which he possessed in an eminent degree. His life furnishes us with such examples of it that one scarcely finds even in the lives of great saints. We have seen him remaining equally calm and tranquil in the midst of the havocs of war as in the joys of peace; in sickness as well as in the most vigorous health; in successes as in the most discouraging failures. To reach such a degree of serenity one must have, so to speak, ceased to live the ordinary life of a mortal and to say with Saint Paul, "I live, no longer I, but Christ liveth in me." One must have buried the old man, with all his concupiscences, and be no longer tossed by passion or desire.

It was just the same with his exterior mortifications. Although he took all imaginable precautions to hide some of them and to put people off the scent, he was well enough known on this point to be given a place amongst the greatest penitents. Here are some revelations made at the Process of his Canonization:

Saint Vincent scarcely ever went to bed before midnight, because the very serious and multiplied affairs with which he was overwhelmed did not permit him to go earlier. His bed consisted of a wretched mattress; whether well or ill, he rose regularly at four o'clock in the morning. On awaking he took the discipline. A Brother who occupied the next room assures us that the Saint had never omitted this practice during the twelve years he had lived next to him. To these austerities he added others, to obtain some particular graces, or to appease the anger of God during public calamities. His haircloth, which is still preserved, makes even those shudder who are accustomed to such mortifications. Besides, it is by chance only that we know anything about the extent and degree of his penances, for he was as diligent in keeping them hidden as he was ardent in practising them.

Every morning, even during the most severe winters, he spent more than three hours in prayer, divided between his meditation, his preparation for Holy Mass and his Thanksgiving. He remained kneeling on the bare pavement, without ever allowing a mat to be placed where he was accustomed to kneel. Being an enemy of any pampering of his body, one might almost say an executioner of his body, although his legs were swollen and he suffered from the attacks of a quartan ague for half the year, he worked hard with the same diligence as when he had enjoyed perfect health. Besides the fasts prescribed by the Church (from which he never dispensed himself), he usually fasted twice a week; neither old age nor his infirmities could make him relinquish the custom. His nourishment was always most ordinary; there was never any difference made between him and the least of his Congregation, either in the quantity or quality of the food. He generally chose for himself what was least appetizing, and for fear of yielding to sensuality, which is so apt to glide in everywhere, he sprinkled some bitter powder over his food, which made it disagreeable to the taste. In whatever place he found himself he ate and drank very little; not that he had no appetite, but he had made a law for himself never to satisfy it to the full. When he dined at the second table he took care to sit amongst the servants so that he might be served with the remains of the first table. If it happened that they had cleared the table and carried away the wine he did not ask for any, but drank water, although nobody else had such need of keeping up his strength as he had. However late he might be coming in for his dinner, whether at two o'clock or even at three o'clock in the afternoon, he was invariably still fasting.

At the age of sixty years and more, he fasted during Lent more strictly than a robust man, in the flower of his age. Salted codfish, herrings and other salted fish were his only nourishment, like the rest of the Community. Sometimes they tried to deceive him at the second table by serving him fresh fish instead of the salted fish served to his brethren, but the love of mortification made him watchful, and he defeated the innocent artifice. He asked what had been served at the first table and wished to be treated with the same, otherwise he would not eat it. In the evening a piece of bread, an apple and some water tinged with wine formed his supper. Sometimes, even when it was not a fast day, if he happened to come in a little late, he would go to his room without eating anything.

Speech served him only to preach virtue, or to correct vice, and he would not listen to any conversations which did not promote what is good. It was well understood that he closed his ears to vain gossiping or useless chatter and, far more strictly, to every word capable of wounding charity.

As to the senses, especially the sense of taste, he had subdued them to an extraordinary degree. Cold and heat, what was good and what was bad, were to him indifferent. There are few persons of whom one can say that they do not prefer one kind of food to another; as for Saint Vincent, the Brother who had charge of him took great pains to discover his preferences, but without succeeding in finding a single one. He drank in long draughts, and repeatedly, the most bitter and repugnant medicine; as for eating, he only took food apparently because a man may not starve himself to death.

He used often to say that true mortification does not spare either soul or body; that it immolates the judgment, the will, the senses, the passions, all the sweetest and most natural inclinations. The judgment is to be sanctified by readiness to make more of the ideas of others than of one's own; the will by following the example of Our Lord, Who in the whole course of His Life never did His own Will, but only that of His Heavenly Father, "Qua placita sunt ei, facio semper"; the senses, by keeping them submissive to God, and especially by watching strictly over curiosity of the eyes and the ears, a curiosity which is so dangerous in itself and so powerful in driving our mind away from the thought of God.

The natural instincts themselves, and especially that tendency which is so predominating in many men to be preoccupied about their health, were also with him material for mortification. "For," he repeated, "this exaggerated solicitude for one's health, and this fear of suffering pain which we see in some people, who seem to fix their whole mind and attention on the care of their miserable body, are great obstacles to the service of God, as it deprives them of freedom in the following of Jesus Christ.

"Gentlemen and Brothers, we are disciples of the Divine Saviour; and yet He finds us like slaves chained up, and chained to what? A little feeling of well-being! . . . Oh, my Lord, give us the grace to free ourselves from this self-centred existence; grant, if Thou pleasest, that we may even hate ourselves, so as to love Thee more perfectly. Thou Who are Perfect Wisdom, Thou Who are the mortal enemy of all sensuality, give us the spirit of mortification and the Grace always to resist the excessive love of self, which is the germ of all our sensuality."

Ever an implacable enemy of sensuality, Saint Vincent fought against the very shadow of it. "There is no vice," he said to his spiritual sons, "which is more opposed to the spirit which must animate you than this one; nothing is more capable of making you lose all relish for your holy vocation than this vice. A Missioner should live as though he had no body; he must fear neither heat nor cold; neither sickness nor hunger, nor the other miseries of life. He must esteem himself happy to suffer something for Jesus Christ; but if he fears discomforts and fatigue and hard labour he is not worthy of the name and cannot be of any use. A small number of priests who have renounced all satisfaction of the flesh will do more good than a crowd of others who are possessed by no greater fear than that of injuring their health. They think they are wise; and their wisdom is carnal. Woe to him who flies from crosses, for he will meet with such heavy ones that they will crush him."

Practice - Impose on yourself today some privation in honour of the Blessed Virgin.

- text taken from Virtue and Christian Refinement According to the Spirit of Saint Vincent de Paul, by Saint John Bosco